Saturday, November 26, 2005

This house is on fire


castle-on-fire
Originally uploaded by benkei242.
Natural phenomena in Japan tend to be hyped like movie-stars, attracting feverish crowds in a way inconceivable in the States. I'm in Kyoto at the moment, ostensibly conducting my research, but serendipitously coinciding with the autumn colors season and the massive crowds that they bring. JR Kyoto station feels like rush-hour at all times of day, and riding the buses makes you feel like you're packt like sardines in a crushed tin box. All the same, incidental views of brilliantly yellow fluttering leaves on the way to the station, all the more striking for their suddenness, can shake you from everyday thoughts. A piercing light, a shiver, and you can momentarily forget where you were heading.
-> One hour north of Kyoto, far from the crowds, I found myself at Genkyu Garden within the walls of Hikone Castle. For 2 weeks in autumn they illuminate the garden grounds and permit visitors to enter as late as 8:00pm. Ineffable. Visitors whispered their way along the paths, a long collective sigh.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Why is this person standing over the tracks?

I'm currently away from Tokyo, where many things have been going awry. Still, meeting with some budding Buddhologists here in Kyoto has been somewhat calming. I've been reminded that the cosmos is far greater than any of my individual problems. And far more morbid it seems. Today while the rest of Japan was visiting Kyoto for its autumn colors, I took the train into Shiga Prefecture to gaze at the crumbling remains of Oda Nobunaga's erstwhile fortress-capital Azuchi Castle. Nothing remains save several orderly foundation stones. But the real story is elsewhere. While biking through dry-cut rice paddies a farmer stopped me, and asked if I could make out a figure in a red jacket standing over a train tunnel. Through my viewfinder, I couldn't make out the figure too clearly, but there was in fact someone standing above the train tracks. "I wonder if he's going to jump" he said in a thick guttural Kansai accent.
A train passed, Kyoto-bound. Another passed traveling the opposite direction toward Maibara. I doubled back on my bicycle to check on the figure in red and khaki. He or she was gone, but both trains seemed to have passed without incident.